


Bridging the Stars

by samsg1



Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s03e10 The Return Part 1, Episode: s03e10-e11 The Return, Episode: s03e11 The Return Part 2, Episode: s04e02 Lifeline, Episode: s04e03 Reunion, Episode: s10e10 The Quest (1), Episode: s10e11 The Quest (2), F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Intergalactic Bridge, Minor Character Death, Replicators (Stargate), Space Flight, Violence, puddle jumper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29200773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsg1/pseuds/samsg1
Summary: Bridging the endings of SG-1's "The Quest" and SGA’s "The Return pt2".Jack and Sam POV, fluff, loss, dashes of angst and violence, Atlantis, space travel, and need I mention that Ba'al gets what he deserves, too?Canon-compliant.Semi-graphic violence warning for Chapter 2. Fluff warning for chapter 3 <3
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 20
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, I was in the middle of writing a completely different story, when I happened to inquire on facebook as to why SG-1 hadn’t been part of the secret mission to save Atlantis from the Replicator invasion in The Return. It came to my attention that The Quest two-parter and The Return two-parter were aired simultaneously. And thus this story, which aims to knit the two endings together, was born. 
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are my own.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after SGA's The Return pt 2.

He made his way through the winding corridors, golden-laden in the warm sunset glow towards the Control Room. He couldn’t believe Weir and Shepard had had the audacity to plant a bomb in the middle of the city’s gate room before smashing themselves out the main window in the Jumper, blowing the whole tower behind them. Now, looking around him as he reached Stargate Operations, it was hard to believe their story. The Replicators had done a fine job of restoring the city, at least structurally, though they had left it was completely bare. He guessed the Replicators didn’t have a penchant for keeping plants or sitting on comfy chairs. Another reason on a long list to dislike them. At least they’d had the decency to leave behind a couple of fully-charged ZPMs. Perhaps the hands-in-the-head experience, the icy swim he’d had to take, and not forgetting the whole nearly being blown to smithereens thing had actually been worth it, after all, he mused.

After the dust had settled, as well as confirming that all the replicator blocks littering the city were inert (man, that wasn’t a sweeping job he’d want), McKay had physically bounced up and down in excitement at his discovery of the additional power sources after managing to regain access to the main city systems. They’d dialled Earth with the extra juice straight away to give Landry the good news. At first he'd had been suspicious that they were in fact robot duplicates- and who could blame him- but once he’d been caught up to speed, he had been surprised, but not at all sorry to hear, that Atlantis was still standing and was officially Replicator-free.

“That makes two of us, then,” he hadn’t helped interjecting.

He’d then relayed the information to the President and the IOA for him, later dialling back to inform them that although their codes had been officially locked out, himself and Mr Woolsey had been given provisional permission to return to Earth, where they would be subject to a barrage of security and tests upon their arrival. 

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” he’d answered, then groaned inwardly at the thought of being cooped up in the infirmary under guard for observation for at least 24 hours. They better let him have access to a yo-yo, he’d thought. Or at least, he’d hoped SG-1 and Carter would be back by then to keep him entertained.

After it would be determined that they were not compromised, they would give further instructions for the Daedalus crew and the members of the Weir's rogue group still in the city. He’d wondered inwardly what would happen about Shepherd- he was surely facing court martial. The sooner he could get back to Earth to work his influence on keeping the Colonel out of court, the better.

He reached the base of the stairs of Stargate Operations, spotting the Doctor looking seemingly deep in thought in her office. He couldn’t help but now feel a great sense of admiration for her. He had come to regret the initial misgivings he’d held for her; he secretly hadn’t been convinced of Hammond’s appointment of Weir to lead the Atlantis expedition. It had never been anything to do with the fact that she was a civilian woman- hell, Sarah had known how to hold her ground with his military friends, and she probably could have beaten up Kowalski given the chance. Not to mention, despite his high rank in the military at the time, his ex-wife had always been the one wearing the pants in their house. No, it was that Weir had been sent to this galaxy with little more than a month’s experience running the SGC under her belt while his ass had been on ice, and with exactly zero experience or apparent understanding of war. How could this woman have respected or understood the hierarchy and workings of the military personnel to be left under her charge? How could they have expected her to gain their respect and understanding in return? Plus, he’d known Colonel Sumner way back from his ops in the Gaza Strip. Sure, he could have been a brash soldier at times, but he’d always been the type of leader who’d had the right mentality to make fast, tough calls in the heat of battle. Had he been Head of Homeworld Command at the time, there was no question that Sumner would certainly have been among the top of his prime choice list. 'What had the IOA been hoping to accomplish sticking a civilian negotiator at the top?' he’d thought at the time. 'One who placed diplomacy and discussion above military strategy and action, at that? You couldn’t mediate your way out of a battlefield,' he’d thought. And yet, this seemingly ordinary civilian, who up until a few days prior to her appointment as leader of the SGC hadn’t even known of the existence of the Stargate program, had safeguarded Earth from the System Lords during his absence. She’d then gone on to hold off several Wraith attacks and Genii incursions in Atlantis, among other feats. Of course, the military presence in the expedition had always been essential too, he couldn’t credit her single-handedly of course for her role in the war against the Wraith and the Genii, but time and time again proved that Weir had something. That spark- that gut instinct that knew when it was time to cut the rules, to go against one’s personal morals for the greater good. The kind of decisions he'd been expected to make running Special Ops, he'd realised. She'd surprised them all at the Pentagon by permitting the use of torture for information on the Goa’uld spy. She’d permitted medical experimentation on a Wraith prisoner. She’d set her personal feelings aside and permitted Shepherd to run an almost suicide mission in a Jumper. Over and over, as the latest Atlantis reports would land on his Washington desk, she would surprise him. And now, she had not only managed the incredible feat of taking back the city, no- hopefully _her_ city- from a bunch of human-form replicators, she had saved his life.

He watched as she turned at the sound of his boots.

“Gettin' all settled in?” he asked ironically, musing at the bareness of her office.

“Easily. Although their decorating? Little bit spartan for my liking,” she quipped, and he chuckled at her use of humour. “But the Replicators did do a fine job of rebuilding Stargate Operations back to its original state,” and he joined her in stepping out to take a look around the gate room. “How about yourself? Do you check out okay?”

As much as he had missed going off-world, he certainly hadn’t missed the needles and prodding. Beckett was almost just as much a powermonger as Janet had been, insisting on heaps of scans and bloodwork being done on himself and Woolsey, having been taken prisoner and had Replihands shoved into their brains one too many times. He understood though, he hadn’t forgotten the mission report that had landed on his desk regarding Doctor Weir being almost imprisoned in her own mind after one of them had infested her with tiny little buggers.

“Apparently I don't have any little tiny robots floating in my bloodstream, which is always nice to hear,” he answered. Forget being imprisoned in his own mind, being aged rapidly ten years ago certainly hadn’t been the highlight of his life, either.

“Huh! That it is,” and as she studied him quietly, he wondered if she, too, was recalling that particular mission report. She must have skimmed through when she’d first joined the program, but he certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. To his relief, she changed the topic, asking, “So what now?”

“Oh, a Jumper ride home to the S.G.C.,” he began. Sure, Atlantis had three ZPMs now, but he certainly wasn’t prepared to pass up the chance to fly a Jumper one last time in space. Sure, he hadn’t gotten to fly the maiden voyage testing the intergalactic gate bridge, but he’d settle for seconds. ”Followed by a hot shower,” he added. He couldn’t wait to get rid of the smell of stagnant seawater and sweat off his body. “Followed by a hot toddy...” He’d still barely warmed back up from his earlier dive, and if he wanted to avoid the infirmary and further unnecessary prodding after catching an inevitable Pegasus version of the cold. “Followed by-,” he began, and an image of pulling Carter in a level 21 storage closet for a surprise kiss and catch-up formed in his mind. Sadly she'd been already off-world on what was expected to be a long mission tracking down the Sangraal when he’d been summoned back to Atlantis to babysit Woolsey and help with the Lantean delegation. He hadn’t seen her in six weeks since he’d ended up stopping by when that ridiculous alien-come-tv producer had showed up at the SGC looking for ideas.“ His mind recalled being snuggled in bed with her, kissing her, listening to her talk about her latest missions, and laughing as he she recanted all the ways that Vala had wound up Dannyboy that week.

“I was thinking a little more selfishly,” she said, snapping him out of his happy memory, and it took him a second to catch on to what she was trying to say. “What are the chances of my team staying here in Atlantis?”

He grimaced at the thought of Weir not regaining this command. He’d heard rumours of how shut off she’d been following her abrupt forced retirement. That, he could completely understand. After he’d been bumped off SG-1 without forewarning and been forced to fly a desk, he’d briefly lost his sense of self. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else, he hadn’t been able to imagine never going through the gate again. Surely Elizabeth, too, had gone through a similar state of shock and grief.

“Elizabeth, if it were up to me…”

“It is up to you.”

Well, it wasn’t quite that simple, he though, preparing to turn her down. Wait, actually, this big of a string was probably actually pullable if he stopped to think about it. Sure she’d broken a ton of rules, but she was civilian, and she’d saved Atlantis, as well as his life and Woolsey’s bureaucratic behind. The IOC would surely back the action she’d taken, even if it had been against the standing orders he’d given to nuke the city in the event of a foothold. He could surely take care of getting her reinstated. Colonel Shepherd, on the other hand, would be a massive paperwork headache, requiring cashing in a lot of favours. But then, Hammond had scraped his ass out of worse indiscretions, hadn’t he? He’d have to speak with Landry and Caldwell and get them on the same page, but he’d do his best to make it happen. He was The Man, after all, and that counted for something. In some ways Weir was right. It was kinda pretty much up to him, he surmised. Sometimes it sucked big time being stuck in Washington tied to a desk, dealing with the suits and politicians, but having been bestowed the power and influence to ensure the Program was run the way he thought best was probably the best he could hope for after being pulled from active duty.

“... Right. You can stay,” he said, grinning inwardly at her instant reaction of breaking out into a beaming smile, though ensuring to maintain his outward General poker face. She reminded him of Carter being given permission to fiddle with some doohickey found off-world by another team.

“Really?” she asked, and he wondered if her face would actually break if she kept grinning so wide.

“You're probably still gonna have to get the rubber stamp from the I.O.A., but since you saved Woolsey's ass and you did a fair job on mine, I don't think that'll be a problem.” Well, at least not for you, anyway, he thought. Shepherd? He’d have to get back to her on that.

“Well, I think I speak for all of us when I say thank you very much.”

“Hey, you came back to rescue me.” Thanks to her he was still alive and kicking. He didn’t even want to think about how Carter would have taken it if she’d gated home to find out that he had been nuked to oblivion in another galaxy. As far as she likely thought, he was sitting on his ass in his hated dress blues in Washington, counting down the days til his next scheduled visit to the SGC to check on the progress of the annual staff evaluations, and when they were planning on celebrating their belated anniversary. While she’d known he’d been here to Atlantis to help with the talks with the Lanteans that had taken up home here, their paths hadn’t managed to cross as SG-1 had been off-world each time he’d passed back and forth through the SGC.

“Hmm! Yes, we did.”

“Of course, next time, consider bringing Carter with you,” he added. If she were back on Earth of course, that was, he thought to himself. Not that he didn’t trust McKay to save his ass, Carter was just a thousand percent less annoying. And hotter, of course. He was looking forward so much to going home to that hot shower and to seeing her. Interestingly, he mused, watching Weir standing in her office, it seemed that she herself was already home. Here on Atlantis. And he couldn’t think of anyone better suited for the job.

“Welcome home,” he said, cementing that he’d make damn sure she got her job reinstated, then decided he’d go track down Woolsey who had still been in the infirmary when he'd left. He’d already made his mind that he wanted to fly home via Midway rather than utilize the new ZPMs installed by the Lanteans and Replicators and dial straight home. It just didn’t seem as much fun to take the shortcut, and hell, he was The Man. If he wanted to fly himself home, he’d damn well do it. It wasn’t like he didn’t get to do much flying these days, unless flying a desk counted. Which, it didn’t. Making a mental note that he’d have to send the Daedalus ahead to wait for them at Midway in case something went wrong, he made to pass her down the stairs to radio Caldwell first, she surprised him by pulling him into an unexpected hug. He grimaced at the touch, he always felt awkward with these kinds of things, especially considering he was technically her boss. Or rather, was to be again, anyway, if he got his way. But then, figuring she deserved better than to be pushed away considering he owed her his life, he gave in and decided to hug her back, uncomfortably reaching his arms around and patting her on the back. He couldn't help but think how different she felt to Carter. Hopefully she'd be in his arms within the next day, he thought to himself.

Leaving Elizabeth smiling, gazing at the city, he headed off to the infirmary to see if Beckett had finished poking holes into Woolsey. 

\------

“Atlantis, this is the Daedalus, come in,” came Caldwell’s voice through the speakers of Stargate Operations, the blue light of the gate’s event horizon reflecting in the Ancient consoles. 

“We read you Colonel,” replied Weir, before stepping back and allowing himself to stand before the mic.

"O'Neill here."

“Sir, the Deadalus is holding position, ready and awaiting your arrival.”

“Understood, we’ll be there in twenty minutes. O’Neill out,” he said, giving a curt nod to Mr Woolsey who had been standing silently to the side. Despite his earlier eagerness to get home, he suddenly gave a groan.

“General, I don’t see why we can’t just dial Earth and go straight through.”

“Oh come on Richard, I’m giving you the chance to fly through space through our brand-spanking new intergalactic bridge. Live a little!”

“Live a little?!” he countered incredulously. “I just spent the past three days hiding out from human-form Replicators, being held capture, being tortured mentally, which may I remind you was the worst experience of my life-”

“Pretty much an ordinary day when I was back on SG-1 then,” he countered, enjoying winding the man up.

“I’m not a soldier! I don’t need a joy ride home, why can’t I just gate home ahead of you?”

“Landry insisted we arrive together so he could quarantine us together.”

“He just favours your idea because he’s a former pilot, too,” and he merely replied by patting him sympathetically on the shoulder, and leading him towards the direction of the Jumper Bay. He owed Landry a beer for approving his desired method of travel home, he thought.

Fifteen minutes later, after saying a final word of thanks to the motley crew who had saved them, and having managed to fob off Beckett who had been trying to get in on the first trip back, babbling something that had sounded like ‘wee baby turtles’ in his thick Scottish accent, he and Woolsey were seated in the Jumper, ready to go home.

“Elizabeth, dial her up,” he radioed Weir, who was still in the control room.

“Dialling Midway, General,” her confirmation was heard.

The Jumper lit up at his touch, and instantaneously rose from the floor of Jumper Bay at his thought.

“Gate open, Sir, you have a go.”

He sent the command to open the Operations’ roof door and delicately descended the Jumper, positioning it before the dancing event horizon.

“Earth’ll be in touch again with further instructions via Midway. Hold the fort here for us,” he added, thinking that Atlantis couldn’t be in better hands, right now.

“Will do, safe journey,” she replied.

“Colonel Caldwell, come in,” he called, directing his communication to the Daedalus on the other side of the wormhole. He knew they’d have been able to hear the radio conversation with Weir.

“We hear you, General,” came his confirmation.

“Woolsey and I are coming through now. Estimated arrival, ten minutes.”

“Understood.”

Ignoring the second sigh emitted from his passenger, he focused his thoughts and willed the Jumper to glide forward with his mind. His heart instantly raced. It was one thing to have been a pilot in Gaza. It had been another to be the test pilot for the X-301 modified glider in Nevada. But this, this was flying, he thought. As they approached the horizon, the light filled the viewscreen, and his vision became blinded by the dancing bright light. Before he knew it, he was hit by the familiar feeling of the wormhole swallowing him, propelling him through the galaxy more than one million light years to Midway. 

The next second, his eyes were met by the most astonishing sight he had ever seen in his entire career. His entire life, even. The swirling Milky Way galaxy stretched out before them. Beautiful, glistening, golden and white clouds of stars swirled round into spirals, forming a beacon welcoming them home. The galactic centre glowed, the supermassive black hole jettisoning Hawking radiation a million light years away into the deep of space. The amateur astronomer in him had regretted not having been able to appreciate the view on their hurried way to the Pegasus, having been summoned urgently to meet with the now-dead Ancient delegates. John had flown the Jumper, and Woolsey had irritated the hell out of him the entire time by going over his prepared speech to the Lanteans. He hadn’t been able to take in the view of Pegasus as they’d hurriedly dialled Atlantis, barely stopping at Midway for twenty seconds. This time, on their return journey, Woolsey was keeping thankfully silent, and he turned to see that he seemed equally in awe of the sight before them. Probably feeling a little queasy, too, if the man’s insides were anything like his own. While the journey had felt instantaneous, the additional travel time through the extra dozen gates certainly made for a rougher journey, reminding him of his first few early jaunts through the gate way when the Stargate Program was still in its infancy.

Returning his sight to the stunning spectacle, he tried to pinpoint which Arm of the galaxy the solar system and Earth was on, keen to spot home among the stars. Was Carter and the rest of SG-1 still off-world? He couldn’t even begin to imagine where they were. The stars looked like dust, he couldn’t get over how many stars there actually were in a galaxy. Then, as he tried to figure out the major and minor Arms, it occurred to him that he didn’t even know their orientation, or which direction from Earth the Pegasus Galaxy even was. He’d have to ask Carter when he got back. Hell, despite her huge hand in designing the bridge, her duties on SG-1 had so far kept her from even visiting the location of the bridge. She had never seen the galaxy out of hyperspace like this.

“General O’Neill, is everything alright?” came Caldwell’s concern-filled voice over the radio, snapping him out of his dazed thoughts.

“Err, sorry Colonel, we were just taking a moment to drink in the view.”

“Can’t blame you General,” came the Colonel’s voice, sounding bemused. “It is quite the sight.”

“Indeed it is,” he agreed, smirking at his Teal’c-like answer. The Jaffa had certainly rubbed off some verbisms on him during their time together on SG-1. 

“Well, the SGC’s expecting you, do you have the macro to switch over to the Milky Way network, Sir?”

“Yep, Shepherd showed me how to do it,” he answered. “Dialling now,” and he pushed the buttons as he’d been shown, before dialling in the address for Earth. He backed up the Jumper slightly, finding it difficult to gauge distance in empty space, and was relieved to see the kawoosh not reach out enough to eat the front of the ship.

“Stargate Command, this is Major General O’Neill, authentication code Delta six Charlie Echo five niner, and Richard Woolsey, awaiting your permission to come through.” He knew Landry still couldn’t be sure they weren’t compromised and would be scrutinizing his every word. They’d just spent the past three days in a Replicator-infested city, after all. 

“General, you have permission to come through, but remember that yourself and Mr. Woolsey will be kept under tight security until Doctor Lam can determine you’re not a threat.”

He exchanged a glance with Woolsey, whose eyebrows were higher than even Teal’c could muster on a good day.

“Understood. Open the iris, Sergeant,” he heard Hank call, before he added, “Door’s open General, you have a go.”

“Thank you General. Caldwell, come in.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hold position here until further instructions. We need you to be able to relay communication between Earth and Atlantis.”

“Yes, Sir, understood.”

“O’Neill out,” and he engaged the Jumper’s engine, giving a nod to Woolsey to brace himself for their second extended trip through the gate, and relished at the feel of how smoothly the ship was now gliding forward in the resistant-free vacuum of space. Being careful to keep the ship’s velocity very low, for fear of crashing once they reached the cramped SGC gate room, they slowly drifted toward the event horizon.

“General,” he heard Woolsey whisper, and he quickly turned to look at the man, who for once, gave a smile. “I’m glad we took the long way home. This was quite something.”

He merely nodded back, humbled and surprised at the evidence that Woolsey might actually have a heart hidden deep under all his layers of bureaucratic suit, after all. Not to mention, it took a backbone to admit when one was wrong. There was hope for this guy, yet.

The dancing blue surface drew nearer, and the pair, along with the ship, slid through effortlessly.

The next instant the ship’s window was filled with the sight of the familiar concrete walls, and Landry looking stern through the blast glass. Quickly stifling the dull resurgence of nausea, he slammed on the brakes with his mind, bringing the Jumper to an instant stop, hovering safely above the ramp. The door alarms blared as the blast doors on either side opened, allowing a plethora of soldiers to bustle into the gate room, taking formation around the ship, their weapons raised in readiness.

“Good to see you back in one piece, General,” came Landry’s voice through the Gate Room mic. “Sorry for the less than warm welcome though. I know you’ll understand.”

“That I do, Hank,” he waved dismissively with his hand through the window to the General standing behind the thick glass of the Control Room. “Can you open the overhead doors?”

He saw the General nod to the Sergeant, who nodded back.

“Opening right now. You’re to ascend up to Level Zero and park the Jumper, where SG-1 and two teams of Marines are standing by to accompany you down to the infirmary to be checked out.”

His heart gave a jolt at the news that SG-1 was back from their mission! He’d get to see Carter!

Hearing the sound of the overhead shaft door clank fully open, he commanded the Jumper to rise, which it did, adjusting to the movement of the ship becoming more sluggish than it had done a minute prior free of gravity.

He carefully guided the ship upwards through each dark level upon level- twenty eight- he counted. The journey seemed to drag on, Woolsey beside him looking tense and on edge at the perpetual darkness didn’t help, until finally daylight smashed through the glass, briefly blinding the pair, before the sight of green filled their vision. Trees! After spending the past several days on the city of Atlantis and having faced death there, he hadn’t forseen how happy seeing some greenery would make him. He’d never joke about the galaxy being full of them again. It felt so good to be back home in Colorado. 

Spinning the ship around, the sight of the Marines and SG-1- including Carter, he saw to his relief- standing guard, weapons raised, came into view. He set the Jumper down on a bare patch of land where Mitchell directed, and opened up the rear hatch.

“Well, Toto, we’re back in Kansas,” he quipped back at Woolsey as he stepped out of the ship first, grinning in relief to be back. He was quite amused at the alarmed and now confused-look that Woolsey returned to him, who now raised his arms slowly in a non-threatening manner at the dozen-or-so Marines and SG-1 who were currently directing their weapons at them both.

Unable to help himself, he instantly locked eyes with Carter’s. 

“Auntie Em, it’s me,” he said bemusedly, while simultaneously also raising his arms into the air. To his surprise though, rather than giving him a warm smile at his Wizard of Oz joke as he would expect, her expression was surprisingly grave. He was surprised to see that her features looked more tired than usual. Well, she had just got back from a long mission, he guessed.

“Forgive the welcoming party, Sir,” she replied after a strange pause, sounding uncharacteristically lackluster. “But we have to be sure.”

“I know,” and he tried to offer her a sympathetic smile of comfort, before Teal’c drew his attention by pointing his weapon, indicating that he should follow the path to the secret entranceway back into the mountain.

“You are to come this way, General O’Neill, Richard Woolsey,” he stated, indicating that they should move towards the mountaintop bunker entrance, and they complied, the Marines tracing their every movement with their pointed weapons.

“I’ll join you guys downside when I’ve finished checking out the Jumper for any tampering. Doctor Lee, you’re with me,” she called, and he was surprised to see Doctor Lee appear from the trees, where he’d been presumably hiding out for safety, carrying a lot of wired equipment. He saw as he passed a laptop to Carter, who gingerly put down her weapon.

As he was led away from the Jumper and her, he stopped to look back and steal a last glance at her as she boarded the Jumper, still worried about her earlier expression, before he was rather roughly pushed on towards the bunker by Vala. As they reached the side elevator, he tried not to snicker at Vala’s protests that he clearly wasn’t the real General O’Neill as he’d referred to Sam as ‘Auntie Em’. The spectacle reminded him of Teal’c when he’d first come to Earth, and his amusement continued as he listened to Teal’c’s candid explanation of the movie about a girl who gets swept away to a far away country. Distracted by her alien confusion, and his lingering concern for Carter’s odd behaviour, he had failed to notice that SG-1 had become a member short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to add that it would have made more sense for them to go to the Alpha Site for security reasons, but I’m assuming the Gate bridge could only dial Earth. The ZPM-powered Atlantis gate of course could only dial Earth, too.
> 
> Next chapter will be Sam’s POV at the end of The Quest pt 2.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place at the end of The Quest part 2, SG-1 Season 10.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #PLEASE READ#
> 
> (March 13th 2021) A/N In no way could I have ever foreseen the passing of Cliff Simon exactly one month after posting this story. This chapter might prove upsetting to some, now, but in no way do I, or did I intend this to portray Cliff's death. This story shows the death of one clone of many of a character absolutely, brilliantly played by the very talented actor Cliff. Please read with caution as it contains some graphic detail. RIP Cliff Simon March 11th 2021

Heart hammering, adrenaline coursing through her body, she ran full pelt towards the opened gate. There wasn’t even an opportunity to look back at Daniel one last time. The sound of his fight with Adria faded as the event horizon engulfed her senses, and she found herself transported back to the quaint countryside planet where they had first begun their quest.

Thank god she’d had time to disable the command code in the obelisk before Adria’s forces had arrived. While she hadn’t had time to reconnect the DHD to the rest of the gate system, disabling the code had meant that they’d at least been able to dial out back to that first Medieval planet.

Her senses were immediately hit by the stench of smoke heavy in the air. The village visible in the distance was still partially burning from its attack by Adria, making her eyes sting. The fact that they had just been forced to leave Daniel behind wasn’t helping, either. It occurred to her now that she didn’t even know the address to the planet where the obelisk had sent them to. 

_“We don’t leave our people behind.”_

They couldn’t go back for him even if they’d wanted to.

She could see that Vala was equally struggling to reign in her emotions, looking up at the greyed smoke-laden sky as though trying to abate the fall of tears.

“What- what the hell happened, Cam?” she panted, trying to catch back her breath, just now realising how out of breath she’d come fighting Adria’s forces and dashing through the gate. “How was Daniel fighting Adria like that?”

“Yeah, he sorta got a boatload of Myrddin’s memories downloaded into his brain through that head sucky thingy and got a fast-pass ticket onto the ascended power train.”

“Oh god,” she said, remembering the last time Jack had been through a similar experience.

“That would explain the lightning that we witnessed striking Adria’s forces,” Teal’c said stoically, stowing his weapon aside now they were safe from danger for the meantime. Sam nodded, remembering the lightning that Oma Desala had summoned on Kheb, taking out Apophis’ Jaffa in a single shot. Jack, too, she remembered, had gained powers when he’d had the knowledge of the Ancients downloaded into his brain. But he’d nearly died- twice. Would Daniel die too, now? Or would he ascend again? Would Adria even let him? Did she have the power to stop him from ascending?

But there was no time to begin to come to terms with leaving Daniel behind as the gate behind them suddenly sprang to life.

“Incoming!” shouted Cam, and they all scrambled to find cover, unfortunately finding very little in the open grassland. Wordlessly opting to hide behind the gate to gain the element of surprise on the traveller, they all clambered round the raised stone base of the gate, huddling close together in wait.

“It could be Adria,” said Vala ominously, clutching her weapon tensely to her chest. “She knows the address of this planet.”

“Could be Ba’al’s Jaffa finally coming back for him,” suggested Sam, remembering Ba’al mentioning that his troops had left him in the shield to search for a way to get the idiot out of the trap the previous day.

“Well whoever it is, I’m thinking they’re more likely foe than friend,” Cam stated.

“Indeed,” murmured Teal'c in agreement, readying his weapon as the last chevron locked into place, and the familiar sound of the kawoosh could be heard from the other side of the gate as the wormhole formed. 

A single _slurp_ sound was heard, indicating that a lone traveller had come through the event horizon. At least it couldn’t be Ba’al’s jaffa, then, Sam thought with some relief. But that left them with Adria, she realized as her heart filled with dread at facing her again. Their bullets would have no effect on her, but they’d have no choice but to try. She watched as Mitchell gave the silent call signs counting down their surprise attack. They would have to negotiate with her, talk their way out somehow. At least they would probably find out what she’d done to Daniel, she thought, giving herself a morsel of respite. 

At Mitchell’s silent signal, they leapt out in pairs from both sides of the gate, and as Sam rounded on the enemy she was surprised to see that the traveller was none other than Ba’al, standing alone and looking uncharacteristically disheveled. As they all simultaneously trained their weapons on him, she noted that he rearranged his expression in a flash to a more threatening expression, though she couldn’t help but feel there was also a hint of relief in his visage. He seemed glad to have found them.

The four of them seamlessly moved to take formation around the Goa’uld, neatly forming a tight square around him.

“Hey, hey, now, let’s not escalate things here,” Ba’al smarmed, and Sam noted that Ba’al was still speaking using his host’s voice. 

He turned to face her direction, raising his arms subtely in apparent surrender. “We’re allies, aren’t we Samantha?” 

She snorted at his deluded use of the word ‘ally’ and her given name. He was out of his snakehead mind if he thought he could elicit any sympathy from her.

“We sure he’s the same one we left behind?” she heard Cam mutter to the team, her eyes still fixed firmly on Ba’al. That was a decent thought. While he was wearing the same robes as the unconscious Ba’al they’d left behind, there were at least half a dozen clones rampaging around the galaxy. How could they be sure? But then she spotted the telltale dent in the Goa’uld’s nose. 

“Yeah, it’s him,” she said with a self-satisfied grin at the memory of striking him in the face. The dull pain in her already darkening knuckles more than worth the satisfaction punching him had given her. “His nose is still smashed from where I punched him earlier.”

“You punched him?” asked Mitchell incredulously, sounding impressed.

“It was indeed a most deserving attack,” Teal’c mused, throwing a rare half-smile and a slight head nod her way.

“Anyway, how did you get off the planet?” Sam found herself asking. “Weren’t you stupid enough to get hit by one of the Ori stun weapons?”

“I am a god, Samantha,” and she rolled her eyes at his continued use of her name. “Such primitive weapons merely hold a temporary effect on one such as myself,” he said, puffing himself up grandiosely. “Anyway, enough rejoicing over my pain. You can put those weapons down,” he said, indicating the guns still pointing fixedly towards his head. “Don’t forget, without my vastly superior intellect you wouldn’t have been able to discover the override in the obelisk’s programming,” and she felt herself roll her eyes a second time. He had been a complete dead weight up until that point, and it was clear that he was going to milk that single accomplishment for all it was worth. “You’d all be dead by Adria’s hands now, and that makes us even, my dear,” Ba’al finished, flashing her a smug smile.

A huge surge of irritance at his constant superior attitude welled in her. Did he think he could charm her by calling her ‘dear’!? Did he think dropping the use of his booming Goa’uld voice could make her forget that he was a Goa’uld? Forget that he was anything but a tyrant- a megalomaniac evil being- capable of such cruelty that she didn’t even want to face seeing ever again? This sycophant had been pushing her buttons all day, making snide remarks and snips at her, and now he wanted to play friendly expecting to get a free pass through the gate? He thought that his help with the cypher made them even?! She was sick of his shit. The leftover adrenaline coursing through her limbs from their face-off against Adria’s army made it more than easy to funnel her anger and frustration and grief at their loss of Daniel into the Goa’uld before her. Before she’d even made the conscious decision, she’d dropped her P90 to hang by her side- trusting her remaining team members to keep their guns trained on Ba’al- and reached down to draw her side knife from her leg hilt, immediately stepping forward in the most threatening manner she could muster, pressing its sharp end against his rib cage. 

“You think we’re _even_!?” she riled. “‘Even,’ Ba’al, would be me slicing this knife through your beating heart for what you did to General O’Neill,” she enounced menacingly, making sure to apply enough pressure to cut through the layers of his robe as she spoke. She’d lived through exactly what he’d done to Jack first-hand when Fifth had tortured her two years ago. She had been held against the mesh-like rail in his fortress, pinned down by an unexplained force. She hadn’t even been able to even raise her arms to protect herself as Fifth-come-Ba’al had oozed burning liquids and dropped sharp weapons into her chest, helpless to do anything to stop the pain.

The smirk that now appeared on his face in apparent recollection of torturing the General, exactly the same expression of amusement that she’d seen in the memory, only spurred on her anger. 

“‘Even,’ would be filling your body with bullets just as you shot those airmen when you broke out of the SGC,” and she applied more pressure at the memory of the memorial service for the fallen soldiers and the mental trauma inflicted upon her friend, Agent Barrett.

“That was one of my clones,” he protested.

“Shut up!” She shouted, her anger rising further. He was always full of excuses and lies. He’d done nothing but string them along on their search for the Sangraal, assuring that he’d known the password to the dragon at the end, then to completely fail them. Nothing he said could be trusted. She saw him begin to form a protest, but as she made a further move into his personal space, glaring threateningly at him, he seemed to decide otherwise, remaining silent.

“Even would be blowing you up just like you blew that building in Seattle.”

She saw as his face broke into a smile. “One of my greater ideas, I must say.”

She recalled how he’d been seconds from blowing up the entire city of Seattle, and he was still pleased with himself. This Goa’uld was completely without salvation. He wasn’t capable of remorse. He wasn’t human. He was evil through and through. He deserved pain, she thought to herself. No, he deserved worse. He didn’t deserve to live. She applied more pressure to the knife further into his chest, enjoying seeing a slight wince escape him.

“Sam, stand down,” said Mitchell, and she felt him place his hand on her knife-laden arm from behind her, pulling back gently. “We can take him back with us to the SGC.”

“No,” she replied bluntly back to him, shoving his grip off her arm. “We’re not risking anyone else getting hurt at his expense.” She recalled how he’d brainwashed Agent Barrett, how several Airmen had ended up getting killed in the firefight as the clones had broken out of the SGC. She recalled the damage Anubis’ clone had inflicted on the base when they’d underestimated him. “We can’t trust him. Don’t let him fool you, Cam. He might have put on a pathetic act when he joined us on our hunt from the Sangraal, but I know precisely what he’s capable of. He’s a malicious, scheming, cruel being. I saw first hand the torture he inflicted on the General when the Replicators showed me his memory. There’s no coming back from that.”

“I never knew that,” she heard him say, sounding surprised.

“I never told anyone. Not even the General knows,” she replied after a quiet pause. She hadn’t ever had the heart to ever tell him that she’d literally relieved his memories of being tortured in Ba’al’s fortress through Fifth. And now Ba’al, or at least one of them, was here in front of her, at her mercy, and defenceless, just as Jack had been in his fortress. He was outnumbered four to one, and there was no sign of the Jaffa who’d first accompanied him to the planet. She was in control. There were no cameras here. She was the more experienced team leader; the decision fell to her. She knew what Jack would do if he were here, and that was enough for her.

“Hold him Teal’c!” she shouted out in command, not allowing her eyes to deviate from Ba’al. Was that a twinge of concern that briefly appeared in his eyes?

Then before she knew, Ba’al’s eyes had flashed. 

“What do you think you plan to do, Samantha?” he boomed, having now switched to use of his intimidating Goa’uld voice. “You are of the Tau’ri. Of the famous, _merciful_ SG-1,” he emphasized. “We all know you wouldn’t dare try to kill me,” he spat, a sly, confident grin twisting his face. “You are too weak to even try,” he said, finished, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Teal’c!” she reiterated more firmly, when she saw that Teal’c still hadn’t acted on her earlier request.

To her relief she saw Teal’c obey and come up behind Ba’al, pulling his arms back in a hold exactly as they had done when searching him for possessions to leave in the quest’s charity box. He must still be weakened from hunger, she thought- they hadn’t given him anything after the initial power bar- because Teal’c easily overpowered him once again. 

“Sam?” she heard Vala’s alarm-laden, questioning voice from behind her, but she chose to ignore her.

“Allow me freedom this time and I shall ensure my brothers spare you the same mercy the next time we inevitably meet,” Ba’al bargained, and she was pleased to sense a tinge of panic in his voice now. 

“Don’t bother, Ba’al. You might think we have inferior intellect,” she began, echoing his prior phrase, “but believe me, we’re not stupid enough to trust you.”

“Sam, he might have intel we could use,” Cam offered, but he was wrong. This Ba’al was just another clone. The real Ba’al would never have sent himself on the dangerous quest for the Sangraal knowing that there were hundreds before him who’d never returned from their search. They already knew this Ba’al knew nothing they didn’t already know of the Sangraal, nor anything they could use against Adria or the Ori. If they took him back to Earth, they would only be risking the planet and the SGC personnel, and she couldn’t imagine them being able to get anything out of him.

She saw him struggle backwards against Teal’c’s broad chest, still holding him firmly in place. Sensing he was about to make a move to headbutt Teal’c from his position in front, she saw as he moved to raise his head backwards, exposing his neck, and, decision made, seizing the opportunity, she reached up and slashed with all her might across his open throat with the knife in one swift blow, instantly slicing both the host and symbiote’s spinal cords in half.

Teal’c released his restraining grip, and Ba’al’s body dropped, crumpling unceremoniously on the ground. 

“That was for General O’Neill”, she proclaimed at the body as she lowered her knife, blood dripping from its blade. His eyes gave a final slash, and then he lay still, red blood pooling and curdling around his face.

“Holy shit, Sam!’ she heard Mitchell shout, but her heart was hammering so fast that her ears were ringing with the coursing blood rushing through, making his voice seem distant. 

Shock at her action started to set in. She’d actually killed him. She could feel her hands starting to shake, making her almost lost grip of the knife. She felt paralyzed, unable to stop staring down at the dead body she’d just killed with her own hand.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” said Vala, side-eying her friend, before bending down to inspect the body. “We can’t leave him here,” she murmured, turning his neck, the pressure on the slit squeezing even more blood from the wound onto the grass below. The white of the symbiote’s form inside was just visible. “Adria or Ba’als jaffa might still come through. We can’t risk him being revived. Even if he is just a clone.”

“Good thinking. We can take him back with us to the SGC. I’m sure there’ll be someone who wouldn’t pass up the chance to dissect a Ba’al clone,” Mitchell said, grimacing at the sight of Vala poking the dead System Lord’s form.

“Indeed. Then we are agreed,” said Teal’c, nodding, who also bent down, preparing to hoist up the blood-stained, limp body.

“Dial us home then, Sam,” said Mitchell, who was still eyeing her incredulously. Suddenly finding she had the ability to move her body again, she bent down to wipe her knife on the grass below, scraping as much blood off as she could, before stowing it away in her leg strap. Then she made her way to the DHD robotically, ignoring the feel of Cam’s concerned stare at her, beginning to input the symbols for Earth. As she got to the penultimate symbol, her eyes seeking this planet’s unique symbol of origin to push next, she suddenly froze mid-dial. In all her rage at Ba’al and the shock of what she’d done, she’d briefly forgotten that they would be returning to Earth without Daniel. 

“Sam, you okay?” she heard Mitchell call from behind her, breaking her out of her thoughts of losing her best friend.

“No, not really,” she replied quietly so only she could hear, before compelling her still-shaking hand to finish the dialling sequence and hit the middle button. The gate connected, and she sent through her IDC. Seeing the confirmation message displayed, she grabbed her radio from her pocket, deciding she’d better forewarn General Landry of the additional baggage they were dragging home.

\-------

Finished up with her post-medical check, and feeling slightly better after a hot shower, a good cry over Daniel and getting the stench of Ba’al’s blood off her body, she was the first to reach the briefing room where the remaining members of SG-1 were to debrief Landry about their mission. The mission had essentially been a bust. They hadn’t sourced the Sangraal, Myrddin was dead, Daniel was either dead, dying or being tortured in enemy hands and completely unrescuable, they’d pissed Adria off further, and- well, she wasn’t sure if she’d sold her soul to the devil by murdering Ba’al in cold blood like that. She wondered briefly what Jack would think of it when he heard, but she stood by her decision, even if it had shocked her herself. She thought she might be better to call him after the briefing finished and tell him directly herself rather than let him find out via a typed report on his desk. He’d want to hear she was back safely on Earth after the prolonged mission, anyway.

Sat alone at the conference table, she stewed in her rage at Ba’al and Adria, rehashed the last moments she’d seen Daniel, and felt sad at the thought of still not seeing Jack face-to-face for a few more weeks (though at least there was the phonecall she’d make once the briefing was over). Deep in thought, she completely missed sensing the towering figure that had loomed behind her. She gave a start, before recognizing the form of General Landry. He surprised her further by looking antagonized, sorrowful, even, as though he’d been nervous to approach her. His expression confused her with her emotions already a whirlwind. What could be wrong? Had the Ba’al clone in the morgue somehow reanimated itself? Had Adria sent them a message that she was planning to attack Earth? 

“Sir?” she asked hesitantly, unable to stop her mind from reeling at the endless possibilities.

“Colonel, I’m glad you’re here first. There’s something I need to inform the team of, but I feel it’s right to tell you first privately,” and she was surprised as she saw him look around spotting no one, then lowered his voice before continuing. “I know of your close personal relationship with General O’Neill, so I thought-”

“What’s happened?!” She couldn’t stop the words from bursting out. She suddenly found herself on her feet despite not recalling making the conscious decision to stand up, leftover adrenaline still running through her system from the stress of the day making her body start to shake again in alarm. “Is he okay!?” she practically shouted. “Sir,” she tacked on on more subdued as an afterthought after her brain reminded her that she was being unprofessional. But she was surely about to given bad news concerning Jack. What could possibly have happened in her three-day absence? she wondered. Had the Pentagon been attacked, perhaps?

She saw as he picked up the remote control that she hadn’t spotted earlier laying on the end of the table, and switched on the monitor. The screen flashed to life, and a low-resolution, highlly static-filled image of General O’Neill and what looked like the back of a suited man in a brightly-lit green-tinted room was displayed. She instantly recognized it as the Control Room in Atlantis.

“Sir, is that Atlantis? When was this?”

“It is, Colonel. This communique was received three days ago.”

“The General went back to Atlantis?” she asked. 

SG-1 had only just set off on their last mission then, and with a pang, she realised that she must have just missed seeing him. It had been a fact that due to SG-1’s busy rota back-and-froing between various recon missions trying to keep track of the progress of several planets being turned by Priors, she hadn’t managed to see him the first time he’d gone to Atlantis to meet with the Lanteans who had promptly evicted the entire Expedition, either. She’d come back from one of the newly-turned Ori planets to find the base bustling with members of the Expedition who’d ended up staying on base until they could find permanent accommodation here on Earth, or flights to go reunite with their families. But to her dismay Jack had already had to return to Washington to debrief on the Lantean situation.

“Why wasn’t I made aware that General O’Neill was heading back to the Pegasus Galaxy?” she felt herself say, knowing full well it would have been need-to-know.

“Sorry Colonel, but considering the importance of your mission in tracking down the only known weapon that could wipe out the Ori, the decision was made that SG-1 would need their heads on straight, and not worrying about Atlantis, or the safety of certain former team members.”

“Safety?” she questioned. 

The General chose that moment to press play, and as the video began to play, her heart immediately sank. The footage was of very poor quality, which never boded well. She didn’t miss the damaged console behind him, and recognized Woolsey moving in the background, taking a defensive position.

“Atlantis is under attack from Replicators,” came Jack’s urgent voice, ringing through the room. Her breath caught. She couldn’t think. She forced herself to focus on the rest of the clip and absorb all the facts before permitting her mind to jump to any conclusions. “Somehow they figured out how to override their programming. The Ancients were taken off guard and have lost most of the city already.”

She couldn’t believe it. She thought the Pegasus replicators had been programmed to not attack their creators. She saw as Woolsey turned suddenly to face something off-camera and began firing the beretta he was carrying clumsily.

“Request immediate evacuation!” Jack shouted loudly over the racket of Woolsey’s gunshots. The video feed quality seemed to be worsening, blackening and becoming patchy.  
Then she watched as Woolsey stopped and turned to him in panic. “They're coming!” he shouted, and the video feed was lost.

“General, what happened?!” she shouted, not even bothering to mask any panic in her voice. She needed to know everything, now. 

“Unfortunately, this was the last data burst we received from Atlantis. We know nothing more than this.” Her mind was reeling. She watched as he drew a long breath, seemingly steeling himself. “I’m sure you know of the standing orders in the event of a foothold situation on Atlantis?”

She did know. Jack had come up with the order himself. Atlantis was the only city with access to Earth from the Pegasus, and that access could never be permitted to fall into enemy hands. Her throat suddenly felt dry. She found it difficult to press the words through the lump in her throat, dreading hear Landry’s confirmation. “Would that be the protocol to nuke Atlantis in the event that we lost control of the city, Sir?” she asked quietly.

“Unfortunately, that’s the one,” he replied gravely, as he looked at his watch. “The Daedalus was already posted at the Midway station at the time of the incursion. After we received the data burst, Caldwell was given the order to carry out the standing order.” She couldn’t help shake her head at his words. She didn’t want to hear what she thought he was about to say. She didn’t want to believe it. They’d just lost Daniel, for fuck sake! “The Daedalus’ ETA to Atlantis was six hours ago. I think it’s safe to assume that…”

“No!” she pleaded, before practically fleeing the room before the torrent of tears hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Cliff Simon March 11th 2021


	3. Chapter 3

“I heard you got the all-clear, Sir,” she said as she approached the only curtained-off bed in the quiet infirmary, making sure to stick to using his salutation while they were still on-base. She tried her best to sound casual as though she hadn’t in fact been waiting around the infirmary entrance for over an hour; Woolsey had just told her the good news on his way to go speak to General Landry downstairs. She and Jack would be alone now, aside from the two remaining nurses on duty serving the night-shift in their office.

“Carter!” he practically barked in surprise as he slid open the curtain to check it was her, still in the middle of arranging the fresh clean BDUs he’d been changing into. “Where the hell have you been? Do you know what it’s like being stuck with no one but Woolsey for company for pretty much the past four days? It would have been quite something to have survived the Replicator attack only to have dropped dead of boredom back here, right?” he groaned before breaking into a grin, apparently unable to keep up the act of feigning being hurt by her absense.

“I know, I’m sorry, Sir,” she replied apathetically, finding little energy to smile back at his humour. While she’d missed him so much- she hadn’t seen him in six weeks- the last twenty-four hours had just been nothing short of abysmal. She’d already been exhausted from the mission- they hadn’t been able to stop for sleep following the initial attack on the village by Adria where they’d hidden out overnight in the inn. After that, Ba’al, and as they’d later discovered, Adria, had joined the group, meaning they’d been unable to rest out of safety. Then it had been a race against time to find a way off the planets they were being beamed to periodically before Adria caught up to them. Tacked onto that had been her decision to neutralize Ba’al, followed by the heart-wrenching news of Jack’s more-than-likely demise. Naturally, despite her body’s complete exhaustion, sleep had been entirely impossible to achieve. She wasn’t sure how long she’d stared at the darkened frame of the overhead bunk in the on-site quarters through tear-filled eyes, kicking and writhing at the sheets in anger, cursing the universe and her inability to shut off her mind for even a few minutes’ respite from the agony in her heart. The sound of the klaxons and announcement of, “Unauthorized Gate Activation,” had had her out of the bunk in a second flat, racing down to Level 28 in record time. Hearing the sound of Weir’s voice, followed by the jovial voice of Jack over the radio had been nothing short of miraculous. The relief that had flooded through her body by the entirely unexpected news that Atlantis was still standing had briefly re-energized her, and she’d surprised herself by volunteering SG-1 to be on the security team that would welcome Jack and Woolsey back shortly afterwards. By the time he’d appeared in the Jumper topside, however, as happy as she’d been to see for herself that he was indeed alive, the earlier buzz she’d felt had worn off, and she’d already returned to feeling completely drained all over again. She’d ended up simply burying herself in the mechanics of the Puddle Jumper, working to verify its safety, knowing her performance and concentration was far lower than usual, though fortunately Dr. Lee had either chosen not to say anything, or simply hadn’t noticed anything amiss. 

“Carter?” she saw him question. His earlier smile had at some point vanished, his eyebrows now knitted together in concern.

“I just-,” she began, then broke off, unable to stop herself from sobbing. It had only taken an hour or so to verify that the Jumper was tamper-free. She’d felt absolutely awful knowing he was alive, back on base, but she’d made herself wait until he’d been cleared medically to see him. She needed to see him alone. She needed them to be _Sam and Jack_ , not just reunited coworkers under the scrutiny of the medical staff and security feed. Unfortunately, the excitement at finally being in such proximity to him had meant that sleep had continued to elude her when she’d returned to her earlier bunk to wait for his test results. “It’s just, I knew if I saw you I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from jumping into your arms,” she coughed, slightly embarrassed by her admission. “And we had to be sure you weren’t going to infect me with nanites first, or something…,” she ended in feeble after-thought.

“I see,” he nodded slowly, seemingly accepting her reason. “Then you’re forgiven,” he said, smiling. She watched as he seemed to study her, then waved her towards him to join him by the bed, before closing the bed curtain around them for privacy in one swift pull. “Sam,” he whispered said quietly, “I heard about Daniel-”

That was her cue. The dam burst and she couldn’t stop from sobbing openly.

“C’mere,” he said, and she instantly fell into his arms, enveloping herself in his warm embrace, allowing the tears to stream freely down her face.”

“We lost Daniel to Adria,” she hiccuped. “Then I came back here to hear from Landry that you-,” she stopped, struggling to get the words out, but the soothing feel of him now rubbing her back helped her on. “You were on Atlantis presumed already nuked to oblivion,” she managed, choking on her words as the tears continued their stream. “I haven’t slept in days, Jack.”

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

She couldn’t say anything back, so she just held on to him tightly as though her life depended on it, reveling in the feel of him tenderly caressing her back soothingly. Finally her sobs started to slow, her breathing return to a calmer pace, and she pulled back to look into his chocolate eyes. He was real. Alive. And as she stared, she was surprised to catch a twinkle of mirth in his eyes.

“What?” she questioned. It wouldn’t be like him to be amused by her crying.

“I heard about Ba’al,” he said, his lip curling into a smile.

“Which part?” she asked, nervous to hear how he’d react to her murder of the Goa’uld. 

But he simply picked up her right hand, studying her knuckles before bringing her hand to his lips, planting a line of tender kisses along the darkly-bruised joints.

“Teal’c spoke very proudly of how you socked it right to him,” he said, his eyes bright with pride.

“That I did,” she said hesitantly.

“Teal’c said you were, and I’m quoting his actual words here, _'a badass'_.”

“He said that?” she asked incredulously. She couldn’t help break into a smile at the compliment from the Jaffa. It was really quite the honour to be attributed such an Earth-like term by him, she thought.

“Indeed he did,” he replied, deliberately using their friend’s frequently uttered phrase.

“I did it for you, you know,” she said, and their eyes met, holding each others’ gaze, and she tried her best to convey to him how she’d wanted to get revenge on his behalf, without having to broach the still-taboo topic of his torture. She knew the experience still haunted him. He still very occasionally had nightmares about it, waking in the night in a cold sweat, but refusing to share the details.

“I know,” he whispered, giving her hand a final gentle kiss, before he seemed to fall quiet and she recognized him straining his ears, probably making sure no footsteps in the ward could be heard. She saw him let her hand fall before reaching instead to cup her face. Pulling her to him, he captured her lips in a deep, tender kiss, making her heart give a happy jolt. God, she’d missed him. Missed, this, she thought, as she fiercely met the darting of his tongue, opening to him at his tongue’s insistence, allowing him to roam her mouth, savouring his taste and the intimate sensations sending butterflies fluttering behind her navel.

“I love you Samantha Carter, slayer of System Lords, badass of the galaxy,” he whispered, as he pulled back, ending the kiss all too soon.

“I love you too, Jack,” she whispered back, giggling at the nickname he'd given her.

He pulled back from their embrace, and she saw with a nervous pang as his expression suddenly turned serious.

“I know we’ve been long-distance for over a year, and I know we were waiting until I could retire, but recent events have shown that even I’m not safe. And you’re still off gallivanting around the galaxy, hell, you ran into Adria and almost lost your life this time being burned to a crisp to a friggin' dragon, from what I heard?” 

She nodded slowly, wondering where he was going with this.

“And now Daniel-,” he started, before sighing. He clearly wasn’t ready to face up to the possibility that Daniel was lost to them, either. “I’m sorry, Sam, I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to have all of you before all hell breaks loose again.”

“What are you saying?” she asked. Maybe it was the lack of sleep but she was feeling thoroughly lost by his words.

“I don’t care what strings I have to pull, or if I have to piss off the President and just quit on the spot. Marry me, Sam,” he whispered, his dark eyes full of intense sincerity, and he took both her hands before making a huge effort to get down on one knee, his old joints clearly protesting.

“I can’t believe you’re actually proposing to me here,” she said quietly, taking in their white-curtained surroundings. But he merely shrugged, and not wanting to leave him hanging, she made the decision to kneel down to join him on the floor, pulling him in for a kiss even more passionate and prolonged than the first. 

“Hell yes, I’ll marry you, Jack,” she affirmed as their lips parted, chuckling at his relieved reply of, “Sweet,” before both unanimously decided they’d be better off continuing the conversation in the more private, camera-free VIP quarters of the base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah! Two fics in a row with a proposal. Oooh I'm so bad! One more chapter to go, everyone :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some S/J shippers who insist that John looks at Sam’s ring finger when he says ‘congratulations’ to her. This chapter is an ode to that. 
> 
> Some lines borrowed directly from Lifeline and Reunion, Season 4 SGA.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes my own.

**6 months later.**

The ship continued to rumble and lurch its descent, a hurtling fireball racing towards the ocean surface below. Sam had to cling on to the console’s edge to keep upright, the readings of their angle and velocity of descent showing on the display as dangerously steep. At least they were planning to land in the sea, though, as long as Sheppard could remedy the angle to make sure they landed on the base of the city, it’d be a hell of a bumpy landing, but the city should remain intact, she surmised. 

“Still too fast! Slow down!” shouted McKay in a panicked voice from beside her. “We wanna touch down _gently_ ,” he instructed Sheppard over the radio, “like a leaf kissing the surface of a pond.” 

She laughed internally at his completely unmilitary-like instructions, as well as at the panic in his voice. He was always so melodramatic. She, on the other hand, was pretty confident they’d be fine. For what it was worth, she'd survived worse spaceship crashes into oceans, anyway.

She watched on the console as the city’s altitude quickly approached zero, and she gripped the console tightly, preparing to warn the others of the incoming impact when the next second they suddenly smashed into the ocean. The crash threw the group out of their seats, limbs flung everywhere, as everyone quickly scrambled back into their positions, fighting against the swaying and rocking of the city as it stabilized itself into an upright floating position.

“Nice kissing!” yelled McKay angrily at Sheppard over the comm, pulling himself up from the floor. Sure, she couldn’t deny it hadn’t been the best of landings, but she’d certainly missed the thrill of danger since she’d been on leave from SG-1 supervising the work on the newly-completed Midway station of the intergalactic bridge for the past several months. To her it had been a more than satisfactory, and most definitely dramatic, landing.

After giving the order to drop the shield and congratulating Sheppard on his “excellent landing,” to which McKay had protested, “You know, you and I have completely different views of the term _‘excellent’_ , Sam,” she turned around to ignore McKay’s continued whining, shaking Dr Lee’s hand to say a job well done, who then promptly vomited on the floor- just missing her boots. Grimacing, she set off to assess the damage elsewhere in the city. 

It had been a whirlwind since she’d first beamed aboard the Apollo only a few hours ago. She’d worked tirelessly alone to upgrade its long-range sensors- fortunately for all she knew the ship back-to-front, since she’d pretty much designed the key systems herself. Then as soon as they’d successfully located Atlantis floating adrift on their twelfth jump-and-search, they’d raced to reach the Asuran homeworld to render assistance to the flagship team’s heist, only to be present to witness the turmoil in Sheppard’s eyes as he’d been forced to make the decision to leave Doctor Weir behind. She couldn’t imagine how desperate their situation must have been to have resorted to such extreme measures. Thieving a ZPM from the clutches of the Replicators wasn’t something you decided to do on a whim, and they’d sadly lost their leader as a result. She was exhausted, but now that she was on Atlantis, and with Elizabeth gone, she suddenly found herself the current highest-ranking officer there, and decided she would need to assume temporary command and promptly debrief Shepard and the rest of the AR-1 team so she could dial Earth and inform the IOA and Homeworld of the situation. They needed to know that while Atlantis had escaped the Replicator weapon and safely resettled on a new world, a new leader would need to be selected, prepped and shipped out as soon as humanly possible.

—-

Later that evening, after she’d had a chance to rest in one of the vacated guest rooms, she’d spent the better part of ten minutes trying to locate Sheppard before bumping into Teyla, who’d tipped her off on his favourite ‘thinking spot’ on the balcony in the corridor near the infirmary.

There, she found him gazing at the new ocean and the night-view. Taking in the new neighbourhood, she surmised.

“There you are,” she said. She wanted to update him that she’d been in touch with the SGC, and would be leaving in a few hours. Sure, she could have radioed him, but she’d rather enjoyed the excuse to explore the Atlantis corridors alone.

“Two moons!” he said excitedly, and she couldn’t help but share in his excitement. She too, would never get tired of the sight of an alien night sky. Particularly one in an entirely different galaxy, at that. 

“Actually, there are five,” she contradicted. “It's just these are the only two visible to the naked eye.”

She’d never spent the night in the Pegasus Galaxy before, and briefly wondered if the middle band of the Pegasus Galaxy would be visible in the sky from this planet, stretching across the sky just as the Milky Way did visible from Earth. She’d spent the past few months being able to see it as she and her team had painstakingly assembled the Midway station piece-by-piece, lugging the smaller parts through the gate by Jumper and the larger pieces via both the Apollo and Daedalus. It had been a childhood dream come true for her- a long-term mission in space in zero gravity with almost daily EVAs. Every time she’d suited up she’d remembered being a little girl, pretending she was her Major Matt Mason figure, flying it around her room, imagining being weightless in orbit of Earth.  


“Heard you and Rodney got us re-connected to the Intergalactic Bridge,” he said, pulling her out of her memories.

“Yeah. General Landry was understandably relieved to hear from us.”

Sheppard had been on the Apollo getting Colonel Ellis up to speed on the Asuran homeworld mission when she and McKay had cracked getting the macro working from Atlantis’ new spatial coordinates. With the newly-stolen ZPM hooked up, they were soon able to dial out easily enough.

“You know, in all the excitement, I never had a chance to congratulate you.”

She raised her eyebrows in confusion as to what he could be congratulating her on, and, tracking his gaze, could have sworn she saw him looking at her ring finger. She and Jack had finally been married just before her long-term Midway mission had begun, having gotten special permission from the President to marry. Jack, however, was still her senior-ranking officer though, so they’d had to swear Vala, who had a penchant for gossip, to secrecy, but she hadn’t thought to tell Cam to keep it quiet, assuming he’d know better. Could he possibly have let slip to Sheppard anyway? 

“Your promotion,” he added, possibly sensing her discomfort. “You're a full bird Colonel now,” he replied nonchalantly, casually raising his hand in salute.

“Ah. Thank you,” she said, relieved. She guessed she must have misunderstood the situation. Or perhaps he was just playing along, sensing he wasn’t supposed to know. Either way, she appreciated the congratulations from the man.

“So, you stickin' around?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, with a somewhat heavy heart. She always seemed to fall in love with the city more and more with each brief visit here, despite the threat of destruction that often seemed to accompany her visits. “General Landry wants Doctor Lee and I to gate back and give him a full briefing on the situation here. The Apollo's gonna remain in orbit for the time being in case you need any assistance.”

After commiserating him on his loss of Elizabeth again and ending their conversation, she decided to take the long route back to Stargate Operations, not knowing when or if she’d ever be back to the city. Perhaps she might seek out a better vantage point to do a last spot of Pegasus stargazing, or maybe take a sneak look at the science lab while Zelenka was still aboard the Apollo on her way back. Now that her intergalactic bridge was ninety-nine percent up-and-running, she’d more than likely be reassigned back to SG-1 full-time soon, she thought with a pang. There was no question, of course, that she’d missed the guys; she loved Daniel and Teal’c with all her heart, and Cam and certainly Vala were always a great laugh. But all had remained quiet on the Ori front for the past half year, and it was looking more and likely that Prior-Daniel’s Sangraal plan had actually worked. The Milky Way replicators were long gone, and the System Lords had fallen. They were also pretty sure almost all the Ba’al clones had been rounded up. She felt like her job at the SGC had been done, like she’d already had closure, and she couldn’t deny that there was a part of her that yearned for a continued change. Perhaps it was a consequence of marrying Jack, but returning to SG-1 and Cheyenne Mountain just didn’t feel right to her anymore.

\---  


Jack gave a long, satisfying stretch, successfully working the kinks out of his back; his cracking knee joints disagreeing audibly with the prolonged forced sitting position at the table.

There was no question now. With the threat from Michael, the Wraith, and the Pegasus Replicators picking up swing, and now with Elizabeth designated MIA, more than likely killed in action, he’d finally successfully convinced the IOA that it was time for a military leader to be posted in Atlantis. 

A number of names were immediately contributed from around the table to be considered for the top position: Colonel John Sheppard, Colonel William Ronson, General Maurice Vidrine, Colonel Steven Caldwell, and his heart had both leapt and sank as the name Colonel Samantha Carter was soon thrown on the table. It hadn’t taken the room of suits long to unanimously agree that Sam, his _newly-minted wife_ , would be best-suited for the job to lead the Atlantis Expedition. Selfishly, the idea of sending his wife off permanently to another galaxy tore his heart apart. They’d already been long-distance the past several months since tying the knot- one-and-a-half million light years to be precise- and just as he thought she’d be returning home very soon, it looked like they were about to double that distance. But, still, the logical side of his brain couldn’t help sing with pride for her as the men around the table began to list their reasons of support.

She’d been under the command of the General himself, it was pointed out, and had learned sufficient leadership, tactical and strategic skills in her eight years working under the now Head of Homeworld. Her recent appointment as leader of SG-1, temporary leader of the SGC on occasions of Landry’s absence, former Head of R&D, and her leadership of the Apollo and the Intergalactic-Bridge projects had all repeatedly shown that she was more than organized, hard-working, and driven for success enough for the post. Not to mention, as pointed out by Woolsey, she demonstrated the type of values that proved she would respect the civilian members of the expedition while maintaining the respect of the Airmen and Marines posted there. Jack noticed that her scientific expertise was barely mentioned, it was clear that she checked all the boxes even without the obvious advantage having her brain in the Pegasus galaxy would bring. He knew she’d hate being forced to work closely with McKay day-in, day-out, but other than that, he knew she’d be thrilled, even if she would miss him. But they’d silently agreed years ago that their relationship would never come before their careers, and they’d reaffirmed that decision wouldn’t change when they’d officially gotten together, too. He wouldn’t let her turn this opportunity down, not that she would even think to, anyway.

He’d been grooming her for command ever since she’d joined SG-1 as a plucky Captain over ten years ago. He’d always seen a fighting spirit in her- ever since her fight against that Mongol Chief- and he’d proudly watched on over the years as she’d matured from the eager-to-please soldier to become a wizened, self-confident leader. One able to think fast on her feet and make tough calls. Just as he’d seen in Elizabeth, Sam, and now she had earned the respect, responsibility and authority he’d known she’d deserved all along. It could only be Sam who could lead the Atlantis expedition, even at the cost of sending his brand new wife to another galaxy. 

‘Talk about a long-distance relationship,’ he sighed inwardly, standing up to attention from his seat at the Pentagon conference table as the President and members of the IOA made to stand. The meeting was over. 

—

“Colonel Carter, welcome to Atlantis.”

“Thank you. It's nice to be here,” she replied to Sheppard, before turning to the many members of the Expedition who had gathered in the Gate Room to welcome her.

“Uh, I want you all to know how honoured I am to accept this appointment,” she started nervously, before reminding herself of the conversation she’d had with Jack in Washington a few days prior when she’d been officially bestowed with her new assignment. She had earned this position, he’d insisted; she was hands down the best choice, and he’d ordered her to ‘own it.’ Smiling internally at his words, and drawing in a steeling breath, she continued, enunciating her voice more confidently. ”I've come here fully committed to this expedition, to Atlantis, and most importantly, to each and every one of you. I look forward to working with all of you. Thank you.”

Taking in the Ancient-built city’s decor, it hit her. Here she was, arriving as its new leader from across the stars, a mirror to her husband whom she’d left behind at Homeworld. Both joined not only by their marriage, but also in their positions of leadership and responsibility, and missions of safeguarding their respected galaxies. Smiling, she allowed Sheppard to show her to her new digs; to her new home. Yes, she thought. She was home, and she was genuinely happy.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was only supposed to be a single-chaptered story while I procrastinated from writing another story, but it kind of developed a bit more! It was just supposed to be an angsty Sam fic being sad at thinking Jack was dead on Atlantis, but then Ba’al’s killing and the proposal got tacked on for drama, and it kind of blossomed ;)
> 
> I just wanted to point out that the title was meant to signify that both Jack and Sam wind up being leaders galaxies apart but connected by the intergalactic bridge across the stars, which I think is pretty cool.
> 
> Thank you as always for reading, comments and feedback always welcome.


End file.
